sw1mushfandomcom-20200215-history
RPlog:Don't Want Visitors
What time was it? The hours had passed in a blurr and Sabrina stirs from the unrecognizable lump she had become on her bunk, bleary eyed at the chrono, illuminated by the only light in the room. Faint as it is, it causes her to wince and she curls up tighter, pulling bedcovers over herself, nevermind that she was still fully dressed with boots and holster. Yes, the handle of her blaster was being shoved unceremoniously into her ribs, but she didn't care. She could neither feel it nor register the pain. Her hand reaches for the bottle on the nightstand, fumbling in the dark and sending it crashing to the floor with an empty clatter. Several unlady like curses rise up from the Marine's general direction and she rises from the bed, trailing linnens behind her. She'd just have to get another one. Now...where the hell was the door? What used to be six-hour patrols have suddenly taken on an extra hour, taxing the concentration and endurance of the Republic's pilots in ways not a little dangerous. Johanna is entirely glad to be out of the cockpit and able to stretch her legs once more here on the deck where the higher-ranked officers are allowed to have their living spaces. It's also nice to be in something other than the insulated flightsuit. While designed to be comfortable and adapt to body temperatures and external shifts in heat or cold levels, there's only so much a being can take after hours of sitting. Word on the Crusty is that Sabrina, Luke and Leia have returned aboard, and being the nosy person she is, the pilot has taken it upon herself to investigate and pay her friend a visit. Time to catch up and hear how it went on Corellia... though if they've all returned in once piece, it must have gone quite well. Ere long Johanna's reached Sabrina's quarters and gives the door a good kick. "Colonel?" she calls, "Kinda late to be sleeping in, don't you think?" The resonating sound of Johanna's boot to door causes Sabrina to wince but at the least it provides her a direction to go in, finding the door by no easy means. She peers, through the crack in the door, and groans "Johanna, what do you want?" She asks, her speech more than perceptively slurred. Sabrina, in no short terms, is foxed. But she did have a mission. Wait, she did right? Sab looks about then remembers the empty bottle and pushes past Johanna at the doorway, the dark room behind her illuminated for a moment by the light flooding in from the hallway, then closed off once again as Sab unceremoniously punches the panel next to the entry. She looks quite the mess, clothes frumpled and hair wisping out from her braids, to dangle in dark locks about her face. Well, well, well. Look who woke up on the wrong side of the bed hungover. "You know, Sabrina, just when I think my life has turned into a boring lot of drudgery, I am granted these little moments by Fate to serve as my sustenance and keep me amused long enough to care about the next battle." Oh, how she relishes this role-reversal! "I suppose you can count yourself lucky Commander Skywalker isn't here to stare disapprovingly at you. No, I take that back... I'm here to stare disapprovingly at you in his stead. What the hell happened, anyway?" It's just so unlike the otherwise straight-laced Colonel to get trashed. Maybe a relative got married? A promotion? Breakup? Who knows. "At any rate, we need to get some water and caf into you. And you need to get cleaned up, you stink. Don't worry. I'm here to return the favor you showed me last time. If you haven't got any clean clothes, there are a few presentable jumpsuits in my room that I'm sure will fit you." Sabrina visibly winces at the name Skywalker and she shakes her head, then regrets the action, sending waves of nausea to her and making her head feel like it was at the center of an ugnaut compactor. "Johanna just stuff it." She says abruptly, not really caring to sober up, half drunk as she still is. "If you want to do me a favor then help me get some more wine. Or whatever, it doesn't matter to me, right now." All she wanted was to numb the hurt which was eating her up inside. Leia had been so wrong. So horribly wrong. She'd told Luke how she felt and it had proved to be worse than she'd anticpated. The colonel would have to face the consequences of what she'd done soon enough, but for now all she wanted was to forget. Whatever's eating at Sabrina's emotions is clearly big. Johanna's eyes narrow fractionally at the Marine's response before she gauges the other woman with a practiced once-over and inhales slowly. "Are you going to tell me what happened, or are you waiting for me to try and pry it out of your mind?" A tentative, probing Force-link begins to solidify as the otherwise irascible Colonel relaxes her defenses, opening herself to incoming streams of feelings and surface thoughts. "And you should know me well enough by now to realize I'm too cheap to buy you a whole new bottle. Much as I like you, I've got four kids to feed and that ain't cheap." Dark eyes peer into the dim room behind Sabrina. "Woman, it stinks in your room!" Sabrina pushes off from where she's holding up the bulkhead and steps past Johanna again, returning to the relative security of her room. "It does not." She defends, and it didn't. In fact it was the immaculately spotless room she'd left behind when she'd left for Coruscant to train as a Jedi. Used only now as her refuge from the unwated thoughts of Luke Skywalker. She drops down onto the bed and flops over, pulling the bedsheets back up and over her head but not before throwing a small pouch with some credit chips in it towards Johanna "Here feed your kids and bring me the wine." She comments then roughly glareas at Joh as she threatens to pry into her thoughts. "Don't" She warns with no hidden aggression. Though she catches the pouch, Johanna clearly has no intention of wandering off to blithely fulfill Sabrina's request. Instead she remains where she stands after having followed the Marine in, and looks down at her with disdain. "Get up," Johanna orders, much as if Sabrina were a Flight Cadet, "You're being ridiculous. Do you want me to bring in Cricket and film you to show to the Commander later? Do you think he's going to approve of this display?" The pouch is tossed next to Sabrina's blanketed face and desert woman straightens up, clasping her hands behind her back. "Time to get up and face the music, Colonel." Sabrina's reaction is less than hospitable and she throws the blanket off herself in one dramatic motion. She sits up, grabbing up the pouch and standing. "Johanna why don't you go do whatever it is that you're supposed to be doing and leave me alone." Sabrina commands, drawing herself up to full height, just a touch taller than the desert woman. "And if that psychopathic droid sets one wheel in this room I swear by all that is holy I will cut him into spare parts." Whatever has set her off, has certainly cut deep. Few have ever seen Sabrina in this rare form, much less inebriated, though the anger Johanna is stoking is quickly sobering her. Commander, she almost snorts, but she leaves her comments to herself. "Sabrina," Johanna begins, the pitch of her voice suddenly resonant and eerie, "Do you think you're being reasonable?" Again the Force-gate is opened, more intensely this time as the pilot allows her friend's growing anger to wash her way. "Cricket was merely a suggestion to get your attention. I see my threat has performed its function more than admirably." The Alderaanian may be taller, but this advantage in height doesn't intimidate Johanna in the least. "What's got you so tied in knots that you're willing to make a spectacle of yourself like this? The Sabrina I know would rather die than let a fellow officer see her half drunk and demanding more booze." "Maybe that's the point." Sabrina snaps, staggering back to the bed and flopping into it. Indeed she'd rather be dead right now that have to face the mess she's made of things. Considering she could probably not face Luke again, letting Johanna see her drunk was merely a small inconvenience. Throwing her arm up over her eyes, she blocks out what little light there is in the room. "Johanna, why can't you just leave me alone? That's all I want. Solitude. I'd leave the Crusader if I thought I could do so quickly enough." Letting her arm roll back she exhales "Maybe I will." "Leave the Crusader? And turn your back on the Republic?" Will that provocation go unanswered? It's silent a good long while in Sabrina's quarters as Johanna watches her friend return to bed. What's going on? There's anger, but there's... there's also *disappointment* in the air. Equally dangerous emotions in her experience, each with its own capacity to distort and damage If Sabrina's not going to be cooperative, Johanna will have to improvise. Before the Marine can protest, Johanna has leaned over and grabbed her by her shirt, using the Force to lend her strength as she hauls the Colonel off the bed and onto her feet. "I wasn't joking when I said it was time to get up. You WILL get up, and you WILL stop this brooding business." There is first a light tapping on the door, then the chimes sound. Someone wants to get the attention of those within, it seems. "Oh for the love of myno..." but Sabrina doesn't quite finish her protest as she's picked up and virtually manhandled into standing. She is livid as she glares at Johanna now, frail restraint keeping her from chucking her friend into the wall. Her arms tense, fingers curling in and nails digging into her palms "Just leave me alone." She pleads, letting the anger bleed from her tone, leaving her voice sounding desperate. The chime at the door is enough to gain her attention and she lifts both hands in the air turning away. Sure why doesn't every body just come pay her a visit at the hour she most desperately just wants to be alone. "COME IN." She calls out gruffly, turning away from Johanna and moving to search the side of the bed where the wine bottle had toppled. Maybe there was still a small swig of it left. The door opens and Leia steps in. Her movements are far less stiff than before, as bacta's healing properties have all but eliminated the remnants of the blaster burn. Stepping through, she settles a tray on a nearby table. "Good evening, ladies." She begins opening a carton and scooping some rich, nearly black chocolate ice cream into three goblets. That done, she pours chocolate syrup over the scoops and places ripe strawberries on the top. Then, she swooshes whiped cream around the entire confection. Placing spoons in each, she lifts one in each hand and moves across to offer one to Sabrina, the other to Johanna. "There is a great deal of emotion raging through the Force this evening. I thought... This might help." If only to lighten things with absurdity... Sabrina stares in disbelief towards her cousin as she enters with a tray laden with sweets. She wasn't serious was she? Shaking her head, Sabrina strides over towards Leia, grabbing the woman firmly but gently on the elbow and steering her towards the door, offered ice cream still in her hands and she grabs Johanna by the arm as she walks past her showing both ladies quiet forcefully the door. "I'll be much better on my own. Thank you." She says, though there's still a slurr to her speech. This may well be the worst Leia has ever seen her cousin, a bedraggled sight indeed, careless mess of clothing and hair and smelling of wine. With that she closes the door, locking both women out before she retreats to the small comfort of her bed. It was a long walk for Luke to return to the temporary quarters assigned to him whenever he is a visitor on board the Crusader. Though several officers and pilots paused to greet him, he waved the off and staggered to his room, his heart heavy as the door slides open and he collapses onto the small bunk. He's not had enough wine to affect him, except for a dull buzzing in the back of his head. The ache he feels has nothing to do with what he's imbibed. Tugging off his boots, he lays back and stares at the ceiling with his eyes wide open. Nice. It's not every day that she's shown the door in such an ungracious manner, and certainly not every day that she's tossed out on her arse along with Leia Organa-Solo! Good times, good times! "Well, I never," Johanna grumbles to the diplomat, who must be as baffled as she is right now, "This conversation ain't over till it's over, and IT AIN'T OVER JUST YET, SABRINA!" Having hollered this last part right at the Marine's door, the pilot is a little more settled and shakes her head. "You know, ma'am, your cousin can't hold her liquor very well. That sort of behavior would have..." Oh, never mind! There's no point in getting riled further about this ridiculous scenario. "Forget it. Just when you came in all nice with the treats, too. Whatever's crawled up the Colonel's arse and died there, I hope it's painful." Leia half smiles, her eyes saddened, "Oh, we used to throw each other out like this fairly regularly in the old days, Johanna. She does not mean anything by it. Just..." She looks back, her gaze thoughtful, "It usually meant that something fairly serious had happened." She offers Johanna the ice-cream in her hand, "So, you do not know what was wrong then?" Johanna takes the proffered confection and shovels a spoonful into her maw, wishing suddenly for a smoke to go along with it. "Thanks," she notes between chews, finding this cold dessert a strange invention indeed, not sure how her digestive system is going to react, "No, I swear... I went in to say hello and she got pissy. She ain't pregnant, is she?" A beat, then, "I swear," she repeats, "I'll show her a thing or two when she gets outta there. Say, ma'am, what do they call this stuff anyway? It's good." A bit of melted ice cream drips onto Johanna's jumpsuit. Typical. "Hell I've half a mind to go find the Commander and ask him what's going on. Maybe he knows!" Yes, a brilliant idea! Leia says, "It is an old Alderaanian desert, Johanna. And, please call me Leia." She glances over toward the door once more, "Oh, it is unlikely that she is pregnant. You can tell using the Force. No, something has upset her." Looking back, she smiles a little at the drip, then takes a bite of her own. "Mmm... Maybe. I will ask Luke. Last I saw Sabrina, she was talking to him. Why don't you come with me?"" Blast it already, she wants a smoke. Badly. It's strictly forbidden to light up here in the revered halls of the Crusader, but Johanna figures that with Leia at her side nobody's going to give her too much trouble about it. Looking furtively over her shoulder to be sure the guards aren't watching, the Colonel fishes out a cig and looks far happier once she's finished the ice cream and has a lit smoke dangling from her lips. "Damn rules," she sighs, "I'd swear they want to kill us faster with depression, but then the Empire's already doing such a good job of it that the Navy can't afford to lose any more people." A surreptitious belch issues forth from her and she looks apologetically at the fine-boned Alderaanian beside her. "Sorry, I'm a little rusty on manners." Smoke. Ahhh. "Where do you think the Commander is?" Leia finishes her own and hands the empty dish off to a youngish Ensign who hurries by. "Thank you." Turning to Johanna, she chuckles, "Oh, well. There are reasons for the rules." She lifts a brow at the smoke, but does not ask that it be put out. Rather, she closes her eyes and casts about for her brother. "Ah. In his quarters." She frowns a little, "Oh, dear." Some of Luke's emotional state has filtered through, "Come on. I do believe we can get to the bottom of this." Opening her eyes, she starts off in the proper direction, her ground eating gait as rapid in it's way as that of a much taller person. Though people may try to address her, she too waves them off for another time. A woman on a mission, it seems. Johanna hurries behind Leia, embers from her cig piddling onto the jumpsuit right about where the ice cream had dripped. She looks a little messy by the time she catches up to the fleet-footed princess. "Quarters, eh? Well if he's sleeping he'll be awake soon enough." Leave it to Joh to make good on that threat! Her boot kicks at Luke's door in a quite vile fashion, more forcefully this time than with Sabrina's door. "COMMANDER, LET US IN." Kick, kick. "WE HAVE QUESTIOOOONS." Charming! And she wonders why she doesn't have more friends! Luke would be forgiven for thinking her an Imperial come to arrest him at long last. She gives the door one last loving tap with her boot before standing back, hands on her hips, the remainder of her smoke chomped in one corner of her mouth. "What?!" comes Luke's distinctive voice from the other side of the door, groggy with sleep and frustration at the first obnoxious pounding. The rustling noise of his sliding from his bed, throwing on a robe, and shuffling toward the keypad are easily drowned out by Johanna's hollering, and there is a furious scowl on the Jedi Master's face when the door finally opens and he stares out at Johanna and Leia in disbelief. "What's going on out here?" he demands, raking his fingers back throgh his mussed hair. Leia is staring at Johanna, disbelief echoing in her gaze, "Joh... Please. This is not the best way to..." Luke's door opens and there is the man himself. "Oh. Evening, Luke. We would like a word with you in private, please." She folds her hands in front of her, eyes wide with dismay and concern, "Do you have a moment?" "Questions," Johanna reiterates, idly theorizing about what's happened as she extinguishes her cig against the bulkhead, "We have questions. Sabrina tossed us out and nearly decked me, so I was wondering if you could give us some insight. Sir." The honorific is tacked on almost as an afterthought, but it's better than nothing. Now, if it were anyone else other than Luke, the pilot would just have pushed past him and invited herself in to have a seat. But it IS Luke, and he can damn well rip people's faces off with his mind if he so chooses. It gives her pause enough to dawdle behind Leia until the other woman sees fit to wave them all inside. Squinting at the two women, Luke ventures that he's never heard a more absurd question than the one his sister has presented to him now. "Do I... have a moment?" he echoes, swinging his incredulous gaze back to Johanna and skewering her with his gaze. "You know, actually, I am trying to sleep. If you have questions about Sabrina, then you should ask her yourselves. If she tries to deck you again, my suggestion is... duck." He turns his gaze to Leia, then, his eyes pleading. "Please. Is it really anyone else's business?" Leia's gaze meets Luke's and she watches him in silence for a long while. There is no touch of the Force, no reading of emotions or thoughts. At least, not that way... Then, she draws a breath, "I see. No, Luke, I guess it isn't. Though I hope that; at some point, one of you decides to talk about it. Preferably both of you. Preferably together." A pause, then and the sister slips away slightly and the Commander in Chief peeks from those world weary eyes. There are thoughts of speaches about performance degridation and emotional trouble impairing ability... but those are left alone and the sister returns in the blink of an eye. Nodding, she touches Johanna's arm, "I have all the answers I need. Let's go." "You don't get it," the pilot presses on despite being a little unnerved by Luke's stare, "She's drunk and pissy and threw creds at me so I'd buy her another bottle. As I recall, last time I showed up hung over at the Basilica there was a lecture waiting for me on the merits of self-restraint. But if you're willing to let it slide for me next time, I'm willing to forget all about this little incident and haul ass outta here." Ah, so she wants a bargain perhaps? Or perhaps it's she who is pissy as well, feeling unfairly judged for past indiscretions and wanting to level the playing field. As Leia touches her arm and offers to beat a hasty retreat, Johanna scowls. "Geez, in such a hurry? Fine."